


A Gilded Cage

by Buggo_Writes



Category: Gondolin - Fandom, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Fall of Gondolin - Fandom, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, F/M, Fall of Gondolin, Fantasy Racism, Gondolin, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Multi, Racism, Sexual Slavery, Silmarillion - Freeform, Slavery, Spoilers for The Silmarillion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:41:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24032935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buggo_Writes/pseuds/Buggo_Writes
Summary: Maeglin had survived the journey to Gondolin with his mother, and was, at first, welcome by his uncle, Turgon, the king of the hidden city. However, when his father, Eol had been discovered to have followed them and made his fatal choice that took Aredhel's life and doomed him to execution Maeglin's fate was doomed. Turgon's judgement upon Maeglin for his father's sin and for the Avari blood he possessed was harsh, and only because of their kinship was he not given a worse sentence. He was to become the servant of one of the lords of Gondolin for 200 years, one hundred for his fathers sin and one hundred for his fathers blood flowing through his veins. What will his life become when an unwilling lord pulls the shortest straw?Aurielle is the servant of Ecthelion, and although she is treated kindly by her master, her heart longs for freedom beyond the stone hewn city though she knows that it is a pointless dream. When she befriends Maeglin and he tells her tales of what lays beyond the pristine white walls of Gondolin, and in return she teaches him how to make the best of his terrible circumstances. Together they suffer the hardships of a life trapped in a beautiful cage and find comfort in their friendship.
Relationships: Ecthelion of the Fountain/Glorfindel, Ecthelion of the Fountain/OC, Glorfindel/Maeglin | Lómion, Maeglin/OC
Comments: 20
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Captive Prince](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21980209) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



> This fic is in an AU where the Avari are treated as slaves/indentured servants by the Eldar, if this makes you uncomfortable do not read it. I am not very sadistic so it's likely I will not include much abuse/violence but there will be some as well as implied rape but I will likely not write those parts. There will not be much violence however I will put the warnings up in case things change.
> 
> The Avari who refused the summons to Aman by Orome are looked down upon for their decision and considered to be of a lesser class than the Calaquendi and even the Umanyar who at least attempted to make the journey. Because of this decision it is thought that although they have many great skills, their skills are rudimentary compared to that of the Umanyar and especially the Calaquendi. When the Umanyar first came into contact with their long lost cousins as the Avari expanded West, they began practicing indentured servitude- where in exchange for a better living environment and the learning of better skills, the Avari would serve Sindar elves for a certain amount of time. When the Noldor returned to Beleriand they take up the practice as well, however in Gondolin, some things have become a bit askew, although for the most part these servants are still treated reletively well, they are treated more like pets than fellow elves. The ones that serve out their contracts are sent to live in the ghetto of the city and still treated unequally compared to the Noldor, and some are never granted freedom, instead their 'master's do not allow the Avari to leave their services.
> 
> This idea came to me after reading a few fics on a captive/slave scenario involving Maeglin, there are two that I thoroughly enjoyed, The Captive Prince which unfortunately only had 3 chapters before the Orphaned the account, and there is another not quite the same but still very nice Flaming by SunflowerSupreme. I will put the links in the notes below.

“No right have you or any of your kin in this land to seize realms or to set bounds, either here or there. This is the land of the Teleri, to which you bring war and all unquiet, dealing every proudly and unjustly. I care nothing for your secrets and I came not to spy upon you, but to claim my own: my wife and my son. Yet if in Aredhel your sister you have some claim, then let her remain; let the bird go back to the cage where soon she will sicken again, as she sickened before. But not so Maeglin. My son you shall not withhold from me. Come, Maeglin, son of Eol! Your father commands you. Leave the house of his enemies and the slayers of his kin, or be accursed!” Maeglin could see the hatred of his father for the Noldor in the fire raging in his eyes; cutting and hot like a fresh blade pulled from the forges fire into his sons flesh as he waited for an answer. The throne room had become still and silent, the only thing to be heard was the howling of the wind against the fair palaces marble walls, Maeglin gave no answer. He was frozen, with fear that indeed he would be forced to return with his father, the dark elf, whose kind was debased by his mother's kin and ilk. 

A moment of doubt swept through Maeglin; he had only just arrived in the city and had yet the time to explore its beauty and magnificence, said to nearly match the grandeur of Tirion that lay beyond the great sea. He worried that Turgon would indeed grant Eol his wish, allowing his sister to stay, but sending her ill begotten son to suffer the wrath of his father. His mother gave him a look- they often communicated this way in the darkness of Nan Elmoth when speech could be overheard easily by spying servants-  _ I will never let you go Lomion. I will protect you with all of my being. _

Aredhel had told lies of her son's origin to his uncle, King Turgon who sat upon his dias judging Eol, wanting to protect her son from what could happen to an Avari descendant within the walls of Gondolin. She only said that his father had been Moriquendi, still not to the standards of the Noldor, and hinting that Eol was actually Sindar, who had at least begun the march to Aman. The tension was high with this newly revealed information, yet Turgon kept his poise, Idril, his daughter, Maeglin’s cousin, looked upon him as if seeing him in a new light. Whether this was in a good sense or bad, he was unsure, all he could tell after the initial look of shock was that she was thinking- almost as if she were somewhere else in that moment. This twisted his heart, from the moment he had set eyes upon her only a few days prior he had held her in reverence, Idril Celebrindal, the beauty of Gondolin. Though they were close in kin he felt a pull towards her and tried to fight it, of course he felt that way- she was the first beauty his eyes had beheld, there was no such elleth in his homeland that could compare. Although he knew that he would not have a chance- she was his cousin for the Valar’s sake- his heart fell to his stomach. 

“I will not debate with you, Dark Elf. By the swords of the Noldor alone are you sunless woods defended. Your freedom to wander there wild you owe to my kin; and but for them long since you would have laboured in thraldom in the pits of Angband. And here I am King; and whether you will it or will it not, my doom is law. This choice only is given to you: to abide here, or to die here; and so also for your son.” Turgon lifted his staff of doom, and brought it back to the marble tile beneath with a definite clash, his voice stern and his judgement unyielding. 

Part of Maeglin felt relief, he knew that his father would never agree to abide in a city of those he loathed, he would choose death, though that choice as well sent a chill down his spine. Eol would not go down without a fight, or at the very least one last action that would have lasting consequences. He had longed to be free of his father's domineering and abusive control for as long as he could remember and when he had come of age he had begun to scheme how to get himself and his mother away. It had taken him five years of careful planning and much deliberation, and then weeks to build up the courage to even speak to his mother about it. But they had done it, and he had thought the plan was perfect- they waited until he made a lone trip to the Blue Mountains to see the dwarves of Nogrod, told the staff that they would visit his cousins in Himring but headed in the opposite direction. But he caught up too quickly, his mind was sharp and caught onto their plan, and here they were.

Eol stared with malice into the eyes of King Turgon and was not daunted, but stood long without word or movement while the silent tension in the throne room continued to escalate. As brave as he knew his mother was, Maeglin could still feel her fear, and longed to reach out to her, to offer some comfort. But he knew as well as she that his father was unpredictable and dangerous as a wild cat caught in a trap. And within a second he acted as such, but not in a way that Maelgin expected- swift as a serpent he seized a javelin that he held hidden beneath his cloak and cast it at his son, “the second choice I take and for my son also! You shall not hold what is mine!”

He had no time to react to the shock of the action causing Maeglin to freeze- an action he would regret for the rest of his days- and his mother sprang forth, taking the blow herself and keeping her word in protecting her son. “Mother!” 

Maeglin caught her as she fell, the javelin lodged in her shoulder and red blood began to tarnish the pristine white that she wore, he could see the pain in her eyes, but her gaze remained on her son despite the commotion of Eol being restrained and his rageful cries. “I am alright. Lomion. I am fine.”

He would hardly call such a wound fine- however in the coming hours she did in fact seem to recover enough to plead for his father’s pardon, she and Idril both moved to have Turgon show mercy on Eol despite his misdeeds. Maeglin joined this meeting, however, he remained silent as his mother and cousin argued with the Lords of Gondolin. As the Lords stated their reasonings for what they believed to be the best judgement, which almost all wanted blood as atonement, Maeglin sat and took heed to their words. 

“He is Avari, a heathen and savage. If we let him live then he will only strike again.” the Lord that spoke, Duilin of the House of the Swallow, flashed Maeglin a look of contempt. He could tell that many of those in that room now held him at the same standards as his father.

“He has proven clever enough to not only to slink into our city like a sewer rat but also hide a weapon. There is no telling what he will do- or at least try to accomplish if we let him live.”

Aredhel held a look of disdain for those lords, though it could also have been the pain caused by her wound, still she fought for her estranged husband's life, “a savage he can be- however you do not know him as I do.” she took an unsteady breath, “he is indeed clever, his mind is one that could greatly benefit this city if given the chance-”

“And how do you suppose we do that when he lashes out and refuses to cooperate?”

“Perhaps my son and I did the wrong thing and running like prisoners- it is possible could persuade him-”

Maeglin perked up at this- she could not have been serious? They  _ were  _ prisoners, his entire life he had been confined to Nan Elmoth and only allowed to leave with his father and his mother less so than he. Turgon spoke Maeglins thoughts, interrupting Aredhel, “no sister, you did what you had to. Eol does not seem the type to let his belongings go so freely. He is likely to take his own life as well as that of his son,” Turgon’s tone had changed when speaking of Maeglin, whereas before he doted on his nephew he now could barely look at him, “and yourself.”

“Even so father, is he not Quendi? Does he not have the right to live? He has done no wrong other than to seek his wife and son.” Idril countered. “His act of violence may have been rash, however I sensed regret in his rage.”

“Yes, he had regret, regret he could not get a better shot at his runt of a son-” Maeglin felt his temper rising as he was dragged into the argument in such a way, but did not have time to speak in his defense.

“You would do well to remember that his son is also son Ar-Feiniel, kin to your king.” Idril interrupted, “a child should not have to face judgement for the actions of their father.” 

Maeglin admired her tenacity, though still felt unease, Eol did seek them out, not out of love, rather from possession and Turgon was right, his father's pride was wounded, and he would do anything including killing his son and wife to right that wrong he felt was done. For his mother more so than himself. Aredhel was like a prized mare to him, beautiful and she had become complacent as well before Maeglin planted the idea of freedom within her. Maeglin was valuable to his father in other ways not only as an heir to his dark lands, but he had proven to be as skilled as Eol in the forges, and had been worked tirelessly. He was just as clever as his father and both had similar temperaments, which had proven to be troublesome. Often their conversations would end as arguments, and Maeglin would walk away with more than just a verbal lashing. 

Turgon sat at the high end of the table and looked to be deep in thought, but before he could speak his mind, Aredhel collapsed. Maeglin rushed to her side, she had become overwhelmed by her wound which had seemed to have been healing, but now was black and festering. The meeting was adjourned at that point, and Aredhel carried back to her room where Maeglin sat with her throughout the night, watching as his mother slowly faded. He held her hand as she spoke her final words before falling into darkness, “I have lived a full life, Lomion, with more than my fair share of pain and sorrow, yes, but also with great love and adventure. I have made many mistakes in my life, my only regret is not having more time to spend with you and make up for the life that I had brought you into.” 

“Mother, please save your breath, all will be well in the morning-” Maeglin could feel his throat tightening, and tears well in his eyes. 

“Be strong onya,” she sighed heavily, her eyes fluttering as her fae began to weaken.

“Mother!”

“I love you.” her eyes closed and a smile graced her lips.

“Mother- I love you too- please-” her hand went slack in his own, and his tears began to fall, “do not leave me- please-”

She did not wake again.

King Turgon no longer considered mercy as an option for Eol, and when the morning came he was dragged from the dungeons to Caragdur, a precipice of black rock upon the north side of the hill of Gondolin. He would be cast down from the sheer walls of the city, and Maeglin stood by and said nothing too lost in his fresh grief for his mother to speak. But Eol had some final words to say to his son, “so you forsake your father and his kin, ill-gotten son! Here shall you fail of all your hopes and here may you yet die the same death as I!”

Maeglin felt a chill at the premonition, and as his father was pushed over the edge, he began to fear that he and his mother should have run in the opposite direction. Perhaps it would have been better to seek their cousins in the east, rather than to face the judgement of Gondolin. His father gave no cry, and the last expression on his face was one of scorn and utter hatred for his executors, Maeglin would remember for eternity. 

When all was said and done, Maeglin could not move for what seemed like an age. He continued to stare at the ledge, expecting his father to rise from it, but nothing happened. Eventually he was pulled back, guided back to the palace, where he was led to the throne room once again. Now it was his turn to be judged, and through his numbness he could see that Turgon no longer saw him as one of his own. The King held his head high and looked down upon Maeglin from his throne, upon hearing of his sister's death he had grown cold and distant, and had not spoken a word to Maeglin since that moment until now.

“Maeglin, son of Eol, you are hereby no longer recognized as my kin, and are estranged from the house of Fingolfin with your mother's passing.” Maeglin could hardly process the words that he was hearing, how could this be? He was Turgon’s nephew, he had done no wrong! “As such you are now considered Avari and will hold the fate of one. To atone for your fathers sins you will serve one hundred years as a slave to one of the houses of Gondolin.”

“That- that is not fair!” Maeglin cried in outrage, unable to find the right words in that moment to express himself properly.

The surrounding Lords sneered at him, as if this had been discussed among them all- outrageous- how could Turgon possibly place this fate upon his sister’s child? His eyes turned to Idril, who though she looked to be internalizing her own fury of the situation but did not speak, “What is not fair is the fate your mother suffered in saving you, from your own father no less! One hundred additional years of servitude for your father's blood that courses through your veins.” Turgon was usually collected and the least temperamental of his siblings- or at least that is what his mother had said- he was fair in judgement and wise. Though in this moment Maeglin learned that he was also quick to hold grudges and when angered, his wrath would come out as vengeance, be it rational or not.

Guards had him restrained just as his father was within moments, “it has already been decided who will be your master. Straws were drawn this morning for that honor.”

From the crowd of lords- some jeering and giving Maeglin distasteful looks and others seeming to be bored- stepped one clad in gold and blue the emblem of his house embroidered into a sash across his chest. The crest of the House of the Golden Flower, Glorfindel the chief of the house approached him, a tall ellon with a broad body and handsome face, though his most notable feature was long golden blond hair that cascaded into waves down his back and shoulders. Maeglin felt dread creep throughout his body as the lord approached him with such a serious expression, He sunk to his knees, what fate did this lord have in store for him?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in Turgon and Glorfindel's perspectives of the events of last chapter so some of it may overlap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning of Major character death in this chapter and angst.
> 
> I've decided that I will not be writing *very* much violence or abuse into this story but it will be present with the theme of indentured servitude and slavery. Maybe not so much with Glorfindel and Maeglin but not all of the Lords are as "kind" as Glorfindel

When Irisse had returned to Gondolin, Turgon’s heart leapt with joy that he had not felt in decades; for the first time since before the news of her disappearance reached him, he felt a sense of peace finally settling within him. And what was more, that she had brought with her a son she named Lomion, as beautiful as his mother, but with sharper, violet eyes that seemed to perceive much more than he let on. Lomion did not speak much but Turgon judged him as shy; he was in a new environment and had just needed time to adjust, though when he did speak those around hearkened. His voice drew an odd amount of attention despite his lack of words, and when his words did not, his fair looks did, he was exotic in an oddly familiar way. Aredhel assured Turgon that his father was Sindar, but it was quickly proven otherwise when the ellon in question was captured by the gatekeepers. 

Turgon felt the same shock as the Lords did when Eol declared himself the sire of his sister's child, he was clearly Avari, and that explained the exotic beauty of his son, who he called Maeglin. His kind were considered lower than the Eldar, less skilled and far less civilized and Eol’s actions proved that, but Aredhel had always had a love for wild and savage things. Turgon was not surprised that an Avari caught her eye, but he wondered how the dark elf entrapped her before she had the mind to leave. She was a sympathizer of the Moriquendi long before she left the city, and was an advocate for their equal rights and as much as Turgon wanted to agree with her, he knew that Gondolin would just not stand for it. The Noldor of the city were far too reliant on the servitude of the Avari, who they worked alongside to raise the great marble buildings and those that did help were granted freedom and a section of the city to inhabit. But the Noldor still required servants and those Avari that wished to live in the sanctuary of the city and did not assist in its construction would serve them, and any children they had when reaching a proper age would enter servitude as well for an allotted amount of time. 

Turgon had compassion for them, but when he witnessed Eol’s actions and his sister's sacrifice, his opinion began to change. Though as the Lords harsh words began to direct towards his nephew he still felt defensive, Maeglin was still in part Noldor, and even as a half breed he carried the blood of Finwe. The King reprimanded them, however when Aredhel succumbed to the poison he found it increasingly difficult for their words not to sway over him as they spent the night debating the fate of the Avari and eventually the discussion led to his son. 

“How can we trust that the brat will not betray us? He already lied about his heritage, we do not know what else he hides.” Egalmoth grew increasingly frustrated as the night went on. He was one of those that set out with Aredhel on her journey away from Gondolin and felt personally responsible, though she was the one at fault for deceiving him. 

“It was Irisse who hid the truth, Lomion only followed her lead.” Turgon countered, “your distrust is valid but he is not personally responsible. It is his father that we must judge.”

When word of Aredhel’s worsening state came from a handmaiden, Turgon’s mental state again began to change, the night was late and there had been more excitement within the past two days than in the past two decades. Being immortal made time strange, there seemed to be large stretches of life that go by where nothing happens and it can feel like that time is dragging on but when Turgon looked back on that time, it was as if it did not last long enough. When such hectic events occur such as Aredhel’s return and Eol’s arrival, it all begins to speed up and happen in an instant and he felt as if he did not have enough time to comprehend it all.

“Ar-Feiniel now lay dying because of her son!” Egalmoth’s eyes burned with anger and slammed his fist on the table they all sat around, “if the boy had not froze in place, she would be here with us!” 

“And she would be pleading for mercy for both her son and her husband!” Idril countered, just as passionately, she reminded Turgon much of her mother, who was just as bold.

“I must go.” Turgon grew tired of the arguing and rose from his seated position at the head of the table, trying to shake the fog from his head. He had to see her, one last time at least.

He followed the path to her rooms with a distant mind, trusting his feet would know where to go as his mind drifted into his memories. Especially those of his family, Turgon had always been the more rational of them all, Aredhel was always a free spirit, running wild with their cousins or venturing to explore on her own. Fingon was a great older brother to them all, caring and supportive in whatever it was that his siblings did, but he was often reckless and Argon was young and impetuous. Turgon often wondered how his father, such a stern and noble man had so many hot headed children, though his mother always had a twinkle of mischief in her eye, perhaps that was it. Turgon stopped outside of his sister's door; it was open slightly, a servant had probably left in a hurry to give those within privacy. He heard his sisters rasping breaths, and heard a soft conversation between her and Lomion whose voice was breaking. 

“Mother, please save your breath, all will be well in the morning-” the young ellon’s voice was pleading, it tore at Turgon’s heart, he remembered Idril’s cries when Elenwe died. 

_ “What does that mean, Ada?” Idril tilted her head, not comprehending her father’s words when he sat her on his knee, trying not to cry; trying to stay strong for his daughter's sake. _

_ “It means that...It means your mother is with your grandfather, Finwe, now....Resting.” it was the best he could come up with, how else does one explain death to a child? Especially when you had yet to fully grasp the concept.  _

“Be strong onya,” Aredhel sighed heavily, Turgon could feel his sister's fae begin to weaken.

“Mother!”

“I love you.” 

“Mother- I love you too- please-” Turgon entered the room too late to say his goodbyes, he watched as her hand went slack in Lomion’s own, and tears began to fall like diamonds down the young ellon’s cheeks, “do not leave me- please-”

Irisse did not speak again, he wondered later if it was just his imagination, or if he truly felt her brush against him as her spirit left her body for the Hall of Mandos. Turgon did not realize he had begun to weep as well, until his vision blurred, he did not speak to the boy as he turned to leave, as quietly as he came. 

Turgon began to have flashbacks of the loss that he has suffered the past few hundred years, starting off with the loss of his grandfather, and then his beloved Elenwe. Idril had not even been of age then, at least Maeglin had more time with Aredhel than Idril did with her own mother, and because of Maeglin, he was losing his sister as well. He had lost his youngest brother, Argon not even a year after crossing the Helcaraxe, he was so young and had not even the time to experience Beleriand before dying in battle. He had thought Aredhel to be lost as well and just as she finally returned he was already losing her again, another sibling- how would he tell his father? He already sent the letter stating her return and of her son, Fingolfin’s first grandson and now he would have to say that that grandson had led to her death? He gave himself a while to let his emotions flow and succumb to the crushing sadness, choosing to wander the palace knowing the Lords would remain until he dismissed them. He watched as the sun began to rise above the Encircling Mountains and let his heart harden before returning to the council room.

As expected the Lords waited, some seemed rather nervous, and others tired, a few still obviously in heated debates that he interrupted upon his entrance, “the prisoner will be executed from the Caragdur.” he said with finality. 

Idril opened her mouth to argue, but he held up his hand, not willing to budge on his decision, “Ar- Feiniel has succumbed to the poison. I will not be lenient upon the one who caused her demise.”

“And of the murderer's son, my Lord?” someone piped up- he did not particularly care which. 

“As with the other Avari that have made their home here he will earn his keep.” Turgon sat at his place, refusing to make eye contact with his daughter, feeling the glare that bore into him from the eyes she shared with her mother.

“Father- he is of royal blood-” 

“His blood is tarnished by that of his sire; he will never be accepted as royalty by any of the Noldor.” 

“And I am not fully Noldo, would you count me the same as he then?” Idril bit at the lord, testing him.

Salgant spke before the King could, “Your other half is Vanya, it is not the same- the Avari are savage-”

“They are Quendi and children of Eru all the same!”

“Enough!” Turgon raised his voice, taking on the stern tone of his father, too weary to continue this fight. “What I said shall not be questioned, if this does not please you, then you can leave.”

“Allow me to take up his contract then at least-”

“That is not necessary, I have another in mind.” That much was true, Turgon had made the decision, he had chosen one of his closest advisors and Lords. He still had pity enough on his nephew, but only out of love for Aredhel, to choose a Lord least likely to make him suffer, yet still strict enough to keep him in line. “Lord Glorfindel of the Golden Flower shall be the one to do so.”

“My King,” Glorfindel stepped forward from the quiet place he had chosen next to Ecthelion, Lord of the Fountain, “I have no room for another servant-”

“You recently had one retire from your services, am I correct?”

“Their vacancy is not important enough to fill.”

“Then consider him a pet then, I heard you are fond of beautiful young ellons, he will suit you.” Glorfindel tried not to look at his King as if he had suddenly grown a second head-he was hardly ever so crude, some of the other Lords snickered, “or if you’d rather I could gift him to Salgant, I do know Egalmoth is in search for a new servant as well, however I doubt that he would be as kind given the circumstances.”

“Do not be so rash, Majesty,” it was Rog of the House of the Hammer who spoke this time, “Lady Celebrindal is right, he is innocent and only wished to bring his mother back to where he knew they would be safe.”

“And he will be safe in this city, but he must earn his keep.” Turgon countered, rising again, “I will not be swayed, if you do not accept then he will be sent to Salgant.”

Glorfindel clenched his fist, he, like Idril, did not agree fully with the practices that some of the other Lords held with their Avari servants, who they regarded more as slaves. He treated his staff with respect, once their contract was up, he paid them handsomely and secured them housing in the proper district. Some had even continued to work under him for years and expressed gratitude for his kindness, and because of this he truly did not have the need for yet another even with one recently leaving. Though he knew that Maeglin would not be treated even half as well with Salgant, who was known to be nearly as cruel as Egalmoth. Why was this offered to him?

“Very well, if that is what your Majesty deems the best course of action then I will accept your gift.” the Golden Lord bowed his head. “For how long should I keep him in my household?”

“One hundred years.” Glorfindel nodded, still not pleased, yet not so much that he was willing to let the boy go to a crueler Lord. a century was not an abnormal amount of time for an Avari to serve, and nothing but a blink in the eyes of one as old as he. Though he could imagine Maeglin, who was barely six years past his coming of age would see it as such, when his sentence was over, it would be nearly half of his life.

Glorfindel was not fond of executions, as rare as they were within the city. He remained in the palace as the others filed out to witness it, watching instead as the dawn broke over the mountain peaks, there were still days that he marveled at it, remembering the first dawn. Every one had been different since then, just as every day had, and he wondered what the next would hold for him as Maeglin’s sentence was carried out. 

He was summoned to the throne room when the sun had risen above the mountains as mid morning came, it was not far from the council rooms. As he approached he straightened his robes and posture, it had been a long night, and the sooner this pageantry was over, the sooner he could rest. He came to stand next to Ecthelion, who gave him a curt nod, Ecthelion was not fond of executions either, and would much rather be in his home as well. At least he had a pleasant face to come back to after such a long and arduous night, Glorfindel thought his friend luckier than he. Though Maeglin was a beauty in his own right, he doubted the Avari would be as willing to share his bed as Ecthelion’s servant. He watched as the Avari was guided into the throne room, a void look upon his face, Glorfindel felt his heart jerk with pity knowing that within the past few hours Maeglin had watched both parents die tragic deaths. He had known Aredhel and her brothers from when they were children- they were distant cousins and had visited often he felt sadness in her passing. He realized that this was probably why Turgon had chosen him, and valued the King's trust, despite not being fond of his decision. 

Glorfindel wondered what Maeglin was truly like, did he take after his mother in personality as he had in his features, or more of his father? From what Glorfindel had seen of the dark elf, he hoped for the ellon’s sake that he did not. He thought of what his childhood must have been like to make him risk running from such a dangerous creature as Eol, how could Aredhel have fallen for such a person, let alone beget a child with him? It was more than unfortunate that despite the risk and the hopes of finding a better life in Gondolin that he would end up with such a fate. Glorfindel could only hope that the next hundred years passed without incident, and that Maeglin would not be difficult in accepting his role at Glorfindel’s side. 

“Maeglin, son of Eol, you are hereby no longer recognized as my kin, and are estranged from the house of Fingolfin with your mother's passing.” As the King spoke Glorfindel could see Maeglin’s face change as he processed what his uncle was saying. Emptiness turned to shock, “As such you are now considered Avari and will hold the fate of one. To atone for your fathers sins you will serve one hundred years as a slave to one of the houses of Gondolin.”

“That- that is not fair!” Maeglin cried out, sounding like a lost child.

Others around Glorfindel gave the young ellon dirty looks, though he did notice pity on the face of Rog and as impassive as Ecthelion tried to be, he could tell his friend was tense. Maeglin looked to them, as if hoping one would come to his defense, his eyes settled on his cousin for a moment. Idril refused to make eye contact with him, but looked furious nonetheless, “What is not fair is the fate your mother suffered in saving you, from your own father no less! One hundred additional years of servitude for your father's blood that courses through your veins.” 

Glorfindel was shocked at this- the King hardly ever let his emotions get the best of him and now adding another hundred onto the already agreed upon time. He did his best to remain composed, though he felt rather heated about the additional time as well. He had never kept a servant that long, less they were willing, the contracts he took out were for one hundred years at maximum. Maeglin was barely one hundred and ten years old and would now have to live double his current lifespan as a captive. He could see the outrage in his eyes, his beautiful features twisted- still lovely but so fierce, Glorfindel began to move before Maeglin could act rashly as he feared that he would. He would rather not have to punish him before getting the change to properly introduce himself in a way that would hopefully lead to less hostility from the younger elf.

Guards had him restrained regardless, though he was hardly struggling, frozen in place, much like he was less than a day ago as his father threw his javelin, “it has already been decided who will be your master. Straws were drawn this morning for that honor.” Turgon made it seem as if he did not plan Glorfindel to take him, he wondered if this was an act of malice toward the boy or to make Maeglin look back later and feel lucky he was granted a less cruel master.

Glorfindel stepped down from his place on the dias with the other Lords and approached the smaller male, keeping his composure. He could see the uncertainty and a level of fear in the ellon’s eyes though it seemed like he was trying to keep his composure. Maeglin sank to his knees upon fully looking at Glorfindel, it made the Lord wonder what he had to be thinking? Was he expecting cruelty? It was possible, Glorfindel wiped his face of any emotion when approaching him. Though Glorfindel had no plans to treat him in such a manor, perhaps the threat of it would keep him from trying to rebel or run away, which would be a high possibility. He would have to put a lock on the empty quarters, keep Maeglin under his watchful eye as he adjusted to such a life, it would be a lot more work than the Golden Lord had wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Onya- Q meaning son
> 
> I have a headcanon that elves have a 'Settling' point, which occurs sometime around or maybe a bit after they come of age when their bodies stop or slow down drastically how they develop. From 1 year to 100 years (coming of age being around the age of 100 when they are considered 'adults') they still mature physically a lot slower than the Edain but after this 'Settling' they remain looking that age for hundreds of years, maybe seeming to age physically over that span but not very dramatically. Say 1000 years is maybe 5-10 physical human years...if that at all makes sense.
> 
> As always comments and kudos appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maeglin gets mouthy and Glorfindel has to handle that a bit more roughly than he would like. 
> 
> Glorfindel takes Maeglin home and is officially over his behavior (already)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe a warning for slight violence? Definitely language.
> 
> I know I wrote Maeglin as looking youthful, and I did it on purpose, but in no way did I mean it to be creepy....its supposed to be to accentuate the fact that he is young, brash and his emotions are going to be a lot more wild

Glorfindel crouched in front of Maeglin, taking his jaw between his thumb and forefinger and pinching hard enough to catch the boys attention. His violet eyes bore into him harshly turning from fear to a protective anger. Searching his face for something- a hint of pity perhaps- that he would not see, though Glorfindel had to actively refuse a shiver with the feeling that he was still being read rather accurately when Maeglin relaxed just enough to let Glorfindel turn his head this way and that to inspect his pretty face more closely. Upon closer inspection, it was noted that his skin was a shade lighter than Aredhels, nearly having a translucent quality to it, with a smoothness of finished marble. There were purple marks under his eye showing how little he must have been resting, likely since before they had even arrived in Gondolin and had been on the run, but they did not take away from him. His lashes were long and thicker than an average Noldo, possibly an evolved trait to protect his eyes from the light further. His jawline and cheekbones were sharp, but his cheeks were still soft and full as a youths would be, between that and his smaller stature it was obvious that he may have come of age, but he had yet to Settle. His lips were soft and supple, a lovely shade of pink- he moved his thumb to pull at Maeglin’s teeth which seemed to be sharp and straight. He was healthy, albeit a little underweight and still rather short compared to other Noldor, by the time his servitude was over, he would have grown into his facial features more and added some onto his height, though Avari males still were smaller than the Eldar.

“Like what you see, pervert?” Maeglin hissed just low enough for Glorfindel and the guards to hear.

Glorfindel slapped him, not too hard, but enough to turn his cheek and tone down the attitude, “you will address me with respect, and may call me ‘Lord’.” _Please don’t do this._ Glorfindel pleaded internally, but knew from the look in those violet eyes that Maeglin was not going to make it easy for him.

Maeglin spit in his face, some of the Lords behind him chuckled, Glorfindel sighed and wiped his face, “you are making things harder on yourself.”

“Fuck you-” 

Glorfindel grit his teeth and slapped the ellon again, harder this time. He leaned back on his heels and stood, meaning to tell the guards to take Maeglin away so he could wrap up the duties he had at the palace before returning home and ignore the vulgar comeback. 

“you better not entice him, Avari orphan.” Salgant spoke before Glorfindel had the chance to give his order. What was with the Gondolindrim today and being so crude?

Ecthelion spoke up for his friend who for a moment was at a loss, “watch your tongue Salgant.” his tone was harsh and his face stern.

The guards truly had to restrain Maeglin now, “take him to my carriage, bind and gag him. I am too tired to deal with his attitude.”

“Damn you! Damn all of you!” tears fell from Maeglin’s fierce eyes, whether from anger or sorrow, Glorfindel was not sure, his fea was consumed by both, “I hope this city burns!” Maeglin snarled before the guards knocked him unconscious and dragged him from the main entrance of the throne room.

Glorfindel passed Turgon as he headed toward the council room to collect his belongings as the King and the other Lords went the opposite direction for the main entrance. He paused and grasped his old friend's shoulder, whispering to only the two of them could hear, “I wonder, Turukano, what Irisse would say if she knew what doom you chose for her child she left for you to protect?” The Golden Lord walked away before the King had a chance to respond, though he was bitterly glad to see a flash of anguish in his eyes. 

  
  
  
  


*****

  
  


Maeglin had woken up in a plush carriage decorated with deep blue silk seats and swirling golden flower embroidery. His hands were bound and there was a bitter tasting gag in his mouth. Instant panic filled his senses at the constraints and he struggled against them. He had been bound like this before- and tried to fight off the cruel memories. His father’s harsh words, the brutal beating and his mother's cries- he naively thought that debating with his father about just visiting his Noldor family would work. It ended with lasting scars, plenty of bruises and weeks locked in the dungeons of Nan Elmoth. But what had come to cause more misery than that dark time was now knowing that his father had been right to so adamantly deny his son's wishes. Maeglin despaired in silence as his mind replayed the events of the past few days. Over and over he replayed the scene of his father pulling out his hidden weapon. The force of his mother pushing him to the side and the sickening thud the javelin made as it hit her body. 

How could he have just froze like that? Why didn’t he move? His mother’s voice rang in his head. As she died, she did not blame him in the slightest. How could she not blame him? He understood his uncle's judgement, perhaps this is what he deserved for not moving- for causing his mother's demise. He should have listened to his father and taken his place with pride as his heir. The Noldor were cruel and racist against their own kin- kinslayers who only cared for their own greed and egos. Maeglin was a fool for thinking just because his mother was Noldo and of royal descent that he would be accepted.

“Do not speak of your father nor speak in his tongue in this place-” his mother said as they entered the hidden gate. “The Gondolindrim have yet to accept Moriquendi as equals. They have fallen behind civil growth hidden away and trapped within their fair city for far too long.”

The carriage jolted suddenly and the door opened. Maeglin struggled to sit up from the laying position the guards had left him in, but managed. He mustered as much malice and hatred into his glare as he could, since he could not speak all the foul things he wished to say to his captor. The golden haired Lord paid him no heed as he ducked into the cab and took a seat across from the smaller male. Was he purposefully going to ignore Maeglin? It seemed like it, the Lord lifted his fist to knock on the side of the cabin and stared out of the window as it began to move.

Maeglin grew frustrated easily, his captor had not even acknowledged him, even back in the throne room Glorfindel was impassive, almost bored looking. It was a stark contrast to the warm and kind presence he had when he first met him only a few days prior. Introducing himself as an old friend of his mothers. What would she think of his actions, of her brothers? Though Maeglin began to wonder if she thought that this would be a possible outcome to begin with, having him intentionally hide his heritage.

As the ride continued, Maeglin tried to keep track of his surroundings but the cab was too high. He could make out stone buildings and some wooden carts but there were few distinguishable landmarks- all of the buildings were made of the same white stone. The sunlight peeked around some buildings and hurt his eyes, the white of the buildings made it more intense. It grew more prominent as they moved eastward to where the sun was still rising. Eventually he had to look away. When they finally arrived, Glorfindel ceased ignoring Maeglin, he reached into a pocket and pulled out a long fine chain. One look and Maeglin knew his intentions, moving away as the blond moved closer, pulling his bound wrists away, although it was useless. Glorfindel quickly overpowered him and took his forearm roughly holding it in place as he clipped the chain to the one between the cuffs.

“If you would cooperate, these bonds would be unnecessary,” Glorfindel muttered sounding equally perturbed, “but I doubt you plan to do so.”

Glorfindel looked to Maeglin, who confirmed it with yet another glare and a purposefully yank.

“Very well then.” Glorfindel opened the door to the carriage and crawled out, pulling the chain. Maeglin tried to resist but it was futile, and was dragged out anyways.

The sunlight stung his eyes causing momentary blindness until they adjusted. His eyes had always been sensitive to the light, living in the dark forests of his home they had no reason to learn to take such bright light. During his escape they adjusted slightly but after too long he still ended up with a headache. They were in a courtyard next to a stable and a large gate that had been closed, he assumed lead to the public. The house was rather large too, several stories and adjacent buildings with blue and gold embroidered curtains billowing the morning breeze. 

Glorfindel did not give Maglin much time to observe the scenery before pulling him along, “the servants quarters are on the lower level close to the stables and kitchens, you will stay there.” Doors to the house opened and he was led through a hall. A few of these servants were watching them pass curiously, Maeglin recognized Avari traits in most of them. Long dark hair, pale skin, dark eyes. His people- again anger surged. But there were also some who did not have Avari traits. All looked well fed and healthy too. The uniforms were slightly different, the Avari wore a pale garment of white, cream or beige, the Noldor wore darker clothes. All wore blue sashes embroidered with gold flowers to represent their house. How much staffing was necessary in this house?

They came to a more narrow hall with several doors lined on either side, Glorfindel took a set of keys from a hook beside one door and used them to open it. He thrust Maeglin into the small room and closed the door behind him, swapping the keys for the ones in his pocket. Maeglin tumbled back, losing his footing as he tripped over a footrest and into an old chair. The room was small and worn with some old and rather used looking furniture, the twin sized bed to his left was stripped and there appeared to be fresh linens at the end, held together and off the floor by rather untrustworthy iron frames. Behind the chair he was in was just enough room for a dresser that was tucked into a nook holding a mirror and a lamp and then at the end of the bed against the same wall was a wash basin.

Glorfindel grabbed Maeglin’s wrists and he instinctually pulled back, “would you prefer to stay bound?”

Maeglin resentfully remained still as Glorfindel worked to unlock his cuffs, “if you behave yourself, life here could be tolerable for you.” The lock clicked and Glorfindel held the binds as Maeglin’s hands shot up to the bitter tasting gag to untie it from the back of his head. He internally cursed the guards who seemed to tie in some of his long hair as well, “I do not intend to cause you harm or plan to be cruel. All I ask is for you to comply with my house rules and earn your keep. This two hundred years could pass by rather quickly for both of us if you just behave-”

“Why should I listen to a word you say?” Maeglin asked venomously. “All I wanted to was to be freed from the prison my father kept-” he couldn’t bring himself to mention his mother, his voice broke, “and now I am yet again imprisoned.” 

“We are all prisoners in Gondolin, only content because we are convinced we will forever remain hidden and safe from the eyes of the enemy.” Glorfindel retorted bitterly, “congratulations, you have upgraded to a prettier cell.”

“She said that this city was safe- a good place!” 

“It is safe- from any exterior threats. However there is plenty of peril within these walls as well if you are not careful.” Glorfindel knew better than most how malicious the inhabitants of Gondolin can be, as ideal as Turgon’s vision had first been when setting off from Nevrast it has taken a turn within the past few hundred years. “While I have your attention we should go over those rules I mentioned-”

“I don’t give a damn about your rules!”

Glorfindel sighed, he was too tired to deal with Maeglin’s bratty behavior, if this was what he had to expect over the next two hundred years, he was in for a two centuries worth of headaches, “Fine, you will not be fed until you are ready to listen.” Glorfindel walked out before he could see Maeglin’s reaction which was likely unpleasant.

He stepped out and closed the door, turning and locking the it behind him. He did not often lock his servants in their quarters- though some Lords did so every night- he only did when one was being particularly disobedient. In an instant Maeglin was trying at the door, but he was too late, and Glorfindel put the keys in his pocket. “When you show you can be trusted then perhaps I will become more lenient, until then you are to stay in this room less I say otherwise.”

There was some clamoring as Maeglin shifted in the room, “you stupid pervert! I’ll just climb out the window-”

Glorfindel grit his teeth, _again with that pervert nonsense?_ “The window is sealed shut, and the furniture is bolted to the floor, have fun trying though. Even if you manage, there are not many places an Avari can go unnoticed to hide.”

The Lord walked away not bothering to listen to Maeglin’s remarks, it had been an exhausting past few days, and he needed rest. He did not doubt that Maeglin would eventually wear himself out enough to do the same, Glorfindel wondered how long it would take for him to cave and request food. Until then the Lord made his ways to his quarters on the upper level of the house and locked his doors, giving orders to other servants to not acknowledge Maeglin in any way, he would deal with him in a few hours.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went back and edited, hopefully better now
> 
> This is what I picture Maeglin's quarters looking like: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ed/2d/6d/ed2d6de258aed6bc6990de634c78d04f.jpg


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sooooo sorry for leaving you guys hanging for so long! Here is a new chapter and I hope that you enjoy it! It's filled mostly with descriptions and Maeglin being sassy and Glorfindel being a perv

Maeglin refused to speak to Glorfindel for two days. Any time he had come to the door he was greeted by a string of rather colorful curses. At the end of day two it was in an Avarin dialect, from one of the passing servants concerned looks, it was not pleasant. When he asked one of Maeglin’s neighbors about what they could hear through the thin walls, he felt a momentary bit of pity. The young ellon tried to muffle his cries but was not always able. The servant looked distressed as well, saying Maeglin often woke them calling for his mother.

The end of the third day Glorfindel finished his own meal in the comfort of his office, he had received the document stating his ownership of Maeglin’s contract which had meant Turgon did not mean to take back his verdict. The King who had been known to be wise and fair in judgement had let his feeling of outrage and self pity dictate his nephew’s fate and rather than owning up to that mistake, he justified it within his mind somehow and solidified his decree. Glorfindel signed it after a few hours of pointless internal debate, coming to the conclusion he had no power to change this however, he did have the ability to govern what happened within his own household and how his servants were treated. Glorfindel drank the remainder of his wine, working up the will power to get up, when he stood and began to move he let out a deep sigh. Quendi could go much longer without food, and there was a fresh water tap available in all servants quarters so the ellon would not die of thirst. But it must have been uncomfortable for him, Maeglin had been through much in the past week, let alone the past few months he had been on the run from his abusive father. Glorfindel could practically feel Aredhel’s spirit chastising him (if she was not already raving at her brother from within the confines of Mandos). He went to the kitchens, gathered a loaf of bread, cheese and a tart and walked to Maeglin’s room. Not bothering to knock he balanced the tray of food in one hand and unlocked the door and opened it.

Maeglin slouched in the chair, one leg raised over the armrest and the other stretch to perch on the small stool. He looked up from whatever he was fidgeting with, no longer having the energy to do more than glare. 

“Hungry?” Glorfindel closed the door behind him and held up the food in a peace offering. He got no answer, “it isn’t poisoned or anything-” he winced at his ill timed attempt at humor.

Maeglin continued to ignore him, finagling the thing in his hands. He was paler than before, which Glorfindel did not think was possible. The purple under his eyes had become more prominent and inflamed as if he hadn’t gotten quality sleep in weeks and the boyish flush of his cheeks was gone. He had the blanket from the bed draped over his shoulders and had it pulled close to him, despite the room being rather warm, whereas most Avari often went with little to no footwear, he had found thick socks and wore them although they looked rather big on him. Glorfindel wondered if Maeglin had received proper nutrition before this, Aredhel had looked rather thin as well when they arrived. Of course, they had been on the run for a while with limited supplies, but he had been under the impression that Maeglin was smart and would have at least attempted to pack the necessities, or that Aredhel would have taught him to hunt- or even hunted herself while in the wilderness. It made him think of what their life had been like with Eol, had the dark elf kept them weak on purpose? If it had made Maeglin so docile in a few days, was it because his father had already done so and he had not had time to recover?

As hungry as Glorfindel knew Maeglin had to be, his pride was still too great, though he definitely eyed the plate he did not move, “Since you are being quiet, I will go over what I tried to tell you the other day.”

No response, just more tinkering.

Frustrated, Glorfindel reached forward and snatched the doo-dad from Maeglin’s hands, he was too weak to respond properly, “pay attention and I will give it back,” Glorfindel looked it over, it was an odd looking box, “did someone give it to you?”

“I found it under the bed, no one has been here since you left.” he muttered, trying to avoid having Glorfindel accuse another servant and getting them in trouble, “It’s a puzzle, when I solve it, it will open.”

“Ah,” Glorfindel thought for a moment, “you like tinkering?”

Nothing.

“...Alright then,” Glorfindel took a seat on the bed which creaked under his weight, the mattress was rather thin as well, he could feel some of the springs, “look, neither of us are...pleased about this, your uncle was ...rash in his decision.”

“You mean cruel?” Maeglin spat out, “typical for the Noldor to be hot tempered and vindictive.”

“You would do well to remember you are half Noldo yourself.”

“What does that matter when I suffer fate as a full Avari?”

Glorfindel did not have a proper response, he knew Maeglin was right to feel this way, “your feelings are valid but they do not change anything. You may as well accept it.”

No response.

“My rules are simple: when another Noldor speaks to you, you are to address them as sir or ma’am. Use respect when doing so-”

“Respect is earned-”

“It was earned when the Noldor saved the Avari from Morgoth’s cruelty.” Glorfindel answered sternly, “if you interrupt me again I will take back the food and confiscate the puzzle.”

Maeglin’s eyes flashed to the food and his mouth remained shut, “good. When I allow you to leave this room on your own, you are to be back by sundown. This is the same for all my servants unless granted permission to do otherwise. If you are not back by that time you will be locked in for a day and a night. If you behave then you will also be privileged to leave the household on your day off which will be at the end of every week.” he remained silent, “unfortunately I do not have a readily open position in my staff at the moment so you will be my chamberlain, which should not be too difficult.”

“You just wish to keep me close until you can seduce me- pervert.” Maeglin found an insult for Glorfindel that he knew irritated the older ellon and stuck with it.

“I am not--!” Glorfindel lost his composure but regained control, taking a deep breath- and the tart from the tray. He caught a glimpse of a smirk from Maeglin before it disappeared, “when I find a proper place for you, you will be relocated, brat. You will earn a small allowance weekly, food and board are free.”

Maeglin opened his mouth, but looked at the food again and shut it. _ Good, he is learning. _

“That is all for now,” Glorfindel stood, “you start tomorrow. Get some rest.” He tossed the puzzle back to Maeglin and placed the tart back on the tray before leaving.

*****

“Get up.”

Maeglin groaned, pulling his blanket over his shoulders and ignoring the familiar voice that woke him. A heavy sigh and a yank at his blankets was next, but he was quick enough to grab them tighter. This was the first night he had gotten decent sleep in what had to be months, and he did not want to give it up. But it seemed as if Glorfindel had other plans, and Maeglin had slept in well past his time to start his ‘duties’.

“You are late. You are supposed to wake me up at dawn and it is nearly noon.” Glorfindel sounded irritated, “and now you have made  _ me _ late-” 

“Maybe you should invest in one of those alarm clocks the Feanorian prince made-”

Glorfindel stomped over to the window and pulled open the curtains, shining the sunlight directly to Maeglin’s pillow. The Avarin hissed and pulled the blanket up further, “why should I when I have a servant to do so? Get up before I take away your bed for a week!”

Maeglin let out a heavy sigh and threw off the blankets, the bed may not be the best, but it was still better than the floor, “apologies, my Lord.” his voice was laced with just a touch of sarcasm.

“Watch your tone, the day has only just begun and you are already walking on thin ice,” Glorfindel tossed something on the bed, a new set of robes, “get dressed quickly, we have business to take care of today.”

“We?” This piqued Maeglin’s interest, he sat up, swinging his legs over the end of the bed.

“Yes. I have a meeting with Ecthelion and you need fresh air.” Glorfindel sat in the chair across from the bed, probably saying more than what he had too, but he had been trying to treat Maeglin as much as an equal as he could given the circumstances, “hurry up.”

Maeglin raised his arms over his head and stretched with a yawn popping several of his joints and arching his spine to do the same to his vertebrae, he reminded Glorfindel of a lazy cat. He had only worn baggy pants to bed, his chest was bare and this for some reason pulled more of a reaction from Glorfindel than he would have liked. Maeglin was petit, and his stretch accentuated that, showing the outline of his ribs and small frame, although he had gained weight in the past few weeks. The sunlight shone on his smooth skin in an appealing way, making the idea of feeling it too enticing, his dusty rose nipples were pebbled being exposed to the cooler air of the room. Maeglin stood, and his nightly garment hung low on his hips, barely hanging on from his narrow haunch- Glorfindel briefly questioned the fairness of Illuvatar’s plan for his life. He quickly shook that thought from his brain, remembering that he was not the victim of this circumstance in general.

“Like what you see, per-”

“Get dressed and quit with that nonsense. You are too mouthy for my taste,” Glorfindel snapped, but thought for a moment and smiled in a way not familiar to Maeglin but made him shiver, “though if you continue to tempt me, I can surely find other ways to make that mouth more...enjoyable.”

A blush spread over Maeglins features and to the tips of his ears, making Glorfindel smirk. That was enough to silence the brat, for the moment anyways. Maeglin avoided eye contact and grabbed the robes Glorfindel had brought, though the golden Lord did not move. When Maeglin realized he would not have the privacy he scowled and pulled the tunic over his head and did his best to remain decent. Glorfindel’s eyes wandered very obviously over his body, the way Glorfindel bit his lip as he removed his nightly pants and his gaze slowly rose up his legs made the young ellon nervous. The tunic was a bit big on him and covered...essential parts but Maeglin was not pleased with how exposed he felt.

When Maeglin tied the silk embroidered sash around his waist he looked expectantly at the Lord, “satisfied?”

Glorfindel stood, enjoying Maeglin’s sudden bashfulness, if this was all it took to get him to behave, perhaps Glorfindel should do so more often. “I highly doubt you can satisfy me, Lomion.” 

Maeglin’s face grew redder at the tone in which Glorfindel used his mother-name, he felt something in his chest and an uncomfortable tingle in his gut, “quit being so-so-”

Glorfindel came close enough to Maeglin to force him back into the bed and eyes him in a way that would make anyone quiver, “Maybe I’ll have that tunic hemmed shorter so I can get a better view of that cute ass of yours-” Glorfindel reached out quickly before Maeglin could fall to the bed, squeezing his pert bottom for emphasis.

Maeglin gasped and tripped over his own feet as Glorfindel’s assertive grasp set him off balance, moving Maeglin to press against his broad chest, “but that is an agenda for another day.”

Glorfindel’s other hand went to his hair, which he had kept in a loose braid at night to keep it from getting too tangled. He felt Glorfindel wrap the lower portion of it around his fist and give a light tug, forcing Maeglin to look up into his eyes, “You have made me very late.” he said gruffly, making Maeglin shiver again.

“I-I-” Maeglin’s throat was dry and he could not get out words, though his mind went wild.

Glorfindel’s hand left his rear to sweep Maeglin’s bangs from his eyes, “I forgive you Lomion, just do not make that mistake again.”

And just as quickly as he had sprung on him, Glorfindel backed away, pulling the wind from Maeglin’s body as he went. “For now do something with your bangs, and meet me in the courtyard.'' His hair was a lot longer than most Noldor kept theirs, and far longer than most other Lords would allow on their servants, but Glorfindel never saw the point in dictating his own hair, it was a waste of energy. He did not care for the bangs Maeglin kept, they were shaggy and disheveled, and would either need to be grown out and pinned back or managed better. “If you cannot manage your hair, I will have it cut.”

He left Maeglin flustered and chuckled to himself as he made his way out of the house. He suddenly did not mind being late anymore.

****

Ecthelion’s housing was close enough for Glorfindel and Maeglin to be able to walk. Mild concern built in Glorfindel but he did not let it show. This was a trust exercise as well as a chance for Maeglin to get out of the house, which Glorfindel refused to let him out of. He had been there for a month and had been adjusting though it was a struggle. Mostly with Maeglin’s attitude. He refused to speak with other servants beyond what was necessary, not joining them for any communal time they invited him to in the evening and was barely able to control his frustrations. There were a few days Glorfindel had to be more harsh that he would have liked, but he began to think of it as training an ill tempered dog. It was as if the threat of physical violence did little to discourage Maeglin from acting out, and he found that the young ellon could go a while without food so it was not worth it to starve him into submission, but Glorfindel was amused to see flirtation worked, for the most part at least. 

Maeglin walked a step behind Glorfindel which was proper for Avari servants to do, observing the busy street with wide eyes, which had been uncovered since Maeglin pinned his bangs back. When he first arrived he did not have the time to explore and see the city as he had truly wished, and the windows of Glorfindel’s house gave good views, but it was not the same. It was beautiful, the roads were wide enough for traffic to move easily, and some had water channels flowing through the center. This divided how traffic moved but also provided easier transportation for heavier goods and a source of water for the buildings around them. Many houses had plants growing in windows, small little herb gardens in planter boxes, as well as vines crawling up their walls. All of the buildings were white stone, though each had a pop of color either from the plant life, or decorations and painted doors.

Truthfully Maeglin was too absorbed in his studies of the city to try to run. This eased Glorfindel slightly, but his consciousness was still heavy as he noticed a rather haughty looking Noldo giving Maeglin a dirty look. The Avari usually were not in this street unless accompanied by their master, but even then some believed that the servants should only use the alleys to commute. The Noldor in Gondolin had gotten too assured in their superiority. They did not remember when they had first returned to Beleriand and the Moriquendi did so much for them, or that the Avari were just as brave as the Eldar for remaining despite knowing of the darkness that threatened them.

They came to a large manor, equal to Glorfindel’s in size and relatively similar design, but the front courtyard had a low brick fence and bushes just tall enough to give the garden privacy from the public rather than private walls like the house of the Golden Flower, and a lovely fountain at its center that was fed by the water channel that ran in the road in front of the house. The front garden was one that was envied by many other Lords, and widely considered one of the best other than the King’s expansive garden. Even though it was small to fit the limited room of the city, there was still quite a bit that fit onto the lot. A river pebble path led in from the fence and split into two around the fountain, and on either side of the path were brightly colored flowers, the grass was kept short and bright green, and there were rose bushes lining the front of the house. Toward the house on either side of the front steps were iron benches where company could sit and chat with the fountain to give them added privacy. The fountain itself was simple in design but had several working spouts that used gravity to bring the water down level by level and others that circled the lowest pool and shot water up and inward. Glorfindel’s own private garden was the only one that could come close to comparing, mostly because the two Lords shared a very talented gardener.

Glorfindel gave Maeglin a moment to take in the beauty of the inner city garden, his attention was caught following a butterfly floating from flower to flower until a bird chirped, causing him to jump, “I hope you remembered the way here, we will be coming here often, and I might send you back home alone depending on the circumstances.” 

Maeglin barely nodded, not at all listening. Glorfindel began to move forward toward the house where the heavy wooden door already swung open revealing his old friend, “Ecthelion, it’s been a while!”

Maeglin’s gaze was drawn to Glorfindel, his smile was wide and genuine, lighting up his face in a way Maeglin had not seen since he saw his mother’s return. He was radiant, with a strong build, tan skin and a handsome face but what really made him exquisite was luxurious golden curls that fell tightly down to his waist. Maeglin often tried to ignore this, but it could be difficult, especially when the blond was being so truly pleasant and not just the facade Maeglin had come to notice. His friend, Ecthelion was his dark counterpart with equally long but straight obsidian black hair, and his skin lighter, though still darker than Maeglin’s. His personality was more reserved as well, Glorfindel had the tendency to be loud and liked being the center of attention, Ecthelion did not need to be. Still for being nearly opposite in temperaments and looks, they were close, although Maeglin was not able to follow until now, Glorfindel went to see Ecthelion often.

“It’s only been a little over a week.” Ecthelion smiled back pleasantly, “and you are the one who is arriving late.”

“Apologies, this one,” Glorfindel motioned back to Maeglin who still followed Glorfindel up the front steps to the entrance, “decided to sleep in. A work in progress though, he did well and stayed by my side the entire way here without running.”

“Not that I could run anywhere-”

“Ah- Silence.” Glorfindel cut him off, “you are not to speak unless spoken to.”

Maeglin had to refrain from rolling his eyes, he knew doing so would revoke whatever privileges he might have gained with his ‘good behavior’. “Yes, my Lord.”

Glorfindel nodded approvingly as they continued inward. Ecthelion’s manor was not too much different from Glorfindel other than some decorations, Ecthelion seemed to favor more simplistic art and statues than Glorfindel’s large realistic landscapes. His house colors were only slightly different, rather than a dark blue with swirling golden floral embroidery, it was a navy blue with silver water embroidery designs. They were led into a parlor that overlooked another garden, Ecthelion and Glorfindel sat across from one another in the seating area, and Maeglin stood against a wall, quite ready to zone out as it looked like the two only planned on socializing. However, as he was about to do so, a door opposite of where he stood opened from a hidden compartment in the wall. A servant exited, pulling along a cart loaded with glasses, a bottle of wine and some afternoon snacks.

Ecthelion turned and smiled, but Maeglin noticed that it was a different smile than he had shown his friend, one that was softer and held a tenderness that also showed in his eyes. “Aurielle, there you are.” His tone was also unlike the one he used with Glorfindel, and one Maeglin did not expect to be used with an Avari servant.

“Aurielle, good to see you, I hope you have been well?” Glorfindel greeted her.

“My Lord,” she returned Ecthelion’s smile with a sweet one of her own, and pushed the cart to the side of the sitting area and began to unload it to the table between the two Lords, “I have, thank you for asking. It is good to see you as well.”

Her tone was polite, her eyes met his and her smile turned to him in eager greeting, though she did not speak out of turn, be blinked out of his haze, and repaid her smile with one of his own, which was more of a grimace. He had not smiled in a while… “This is Maeglin,” Glorfindel gestured back to him, but kept eye contact with her, “he is...my new servant.”

"It is nice to meet you, Maeglin."

**Author's Note:**

> In this fic I decided to make Eol an Avari, it explains his deep hatred and distrust of the Noldor.
> 
> Links to recommended fics:
> 
> Flaming by SunflowerSupreme: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20289826/chapters/48099472  
> The Captive Prince: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21980209/chapters/52450063
> 
> Kudos and Comments are very much appreciated, but if you have nothing nice to say, keep it to yourself, this fic has plenty of warnings.


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